Getting a letter from someone I love
Being given the ability to do something for someone else that I didn't know I could do
Finding a greater love for others as I'm serving them
Hearing my daughters laugh
Seeing my sons smile
Feeling my husband relax
Seeing them excel
Hearing them sing together
Watching them learn
Feeling together
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Anxiously Engaged
Maxine Campbell was my hero. I never saw her sitting still. I never saw her standing still. If she was sitting, she was waiting for sacrament meeting to begin, but she was eagerly waiting, thinking, looking for someone, getting her scriptures out, reading, smiling at someone. If she was standing, she was on her way to teach a lesson. And her lessons were memorable!
She taught a powerful Relief Society lesson once about having meaningful family home evenings and having them consistently, and how the tradition became a legacy. I remember that she related to us how she had had a strong desire to have family home evening when her children were young, even though she had not grown up with it; and that she had had to prepare the lessons on her own, since Bishop Campbell traveled a lot; and that she used whatever she had on hand in order to make visual aids for the children. She even mentioned that sometimes when David was little, that Bishop had to call for an intermission, and have David run up and down the stairs, before resuming the lesson. No excuses.
Sister Campbell rescued me at least twice while I was a teenager. There was not a day that went by, it seemed, that my mom wasn't talking to, or about, Maxine. We had her number memorized, and that was long before the advent of caller ID. If Mom wasn't reachable, I knew I could call her best friend. She was always there. My teenage years were no worse than anyone else's, but they were awkward. Many times I was almost paralyzed with fear that I would say or do the wrong thing, and be forever judged for a single word. But when Sister Campbell was there rescuing me in my most embarrassing moments, she was so quick to put me at ease by telling me about her own. She talked to me as if I were her equal. She talked to me about every-day things like a dream she had had the night before, and her plan to send a word processor with Rod when he went off to college.
I remember Sister Campbell came to a baby shower my mom threw for me at Sister Christiansen's home. She made sure I knew that the gifts she brought were not just from her. She explained that although attending a baby shower was too painful for her daughter-in-law, who had already had two beautiful children, but who could have no more, that Sharee had definitely contributed. It was the cutest little pink Piglet outfit!
While I was teaching Primary, I once took a child to the bathroom, and Sister Campbell was there. She observed my interactions with the child, and then told me that I was a good teacher. I did not feel that I deserved the praise, but I felt so appreciated, and I really valued her opinion, because she was just so good.
When I was in the hospital for a short time, she came to visit. I knew she knew what I was going through. During her illness, I was impressed that I so often saw her at church. I heard the prognosis was not great, but she just looked so good! When I asked her how she was doing one Sunday, she just said, "Keep praying for me." And then she was off to take care of some church business. No excuses, no complaints.
Shortly after Sister Campbell had been diagnosed with cancer a second time, she attended our ward's fast and testimony meeting. She stood and started walking toward the pulpit. She tripped and fell. She got right back up and headed forward. She fell again. Up again, and forward she walked. And then she fell a third time. Undeterred, she walked to the pulpit and bore her remarkable testimony. I know my Savior lives.
At Sister Campbell's funeral, I learned, or was reminded, of things about her that surprised me a little bit. Not that they were hard to believe, but I just don't remember her telling me all that stuff, like about how she loved to dance and to go to the beach. I love those things, too. Come to think of it, I really relate to Sister Campbell. She loved my family, especially my mom. I want to be more like Maxine. I want to be a best friend to my mom. I want to give priceless gifts to my children and grandchildren. I want to be in the temple every week.
She taught a powerful Relief Society lesson once about having meaningful family home evenings and having them consistently, and how the tradition became a legacy. I remember that she related to us how she had had a strong desire to have family home evening when her children were young, even though she had not grown up with it; and that she had had to prepare the lessons on her own, since Bishop Campbell traveled a lot; and that she used whatever she had on hand in order to make visual aids for the children. She even mentioned that sometimes when David was little, that Bishop had to call for an intermission, and have David run up and down the stairs, before resuming the lesson. No excuses.
Sister Campbell rescued me at least twice while I was a teenager. There was not a day that went by, it seemed, that my mom wasn't talking to, or about, Maxine. We had her number memorized, and that was long before the advent of caller ID. If Mom wasn't reachable, I knew I could call her best friend. She was always there. My teenage years were no worse than anyone else's, but they were awkward. Many times I was almost paralyzed with fear that I would say or do the wrong thing, and be forever judged for a single word. But when Sister Campbell was there rescuing me in my most embarrassing moments, she was so quick to put me at ease by telling me about her own. She talked to me as if I were her equal. She talked to me about every-day things like a dream she had had the night before, and her plan to send a word processor with Rod when he went off to college.
I remember Sister Campbell came to a baby shower my mom threw for me at Sister Christiansen's home. She made sure I knew that the gifts she brought were not just from her. She explained that although attending a baby shower was too painful for her daughter-in-law, who had already had two beautiful children, but who could have no more, that Sharee had definitely contributed. It was the cutest little pink Piglet outfit!
While I was teaching Primary, I once took a child to the bathroom, and Sister Campbell was there. She observed my interactions with the child, and then told me that I was a good teacher. I did not feel that I deserved the praise, but I felt so appreciated, and I really valued her opinion, because she was just so good.
When I was in the hospital for a short time, she came to visit. I knew she knew what I was going through. During her illness, I was impressed that I so often saw her at church. I heard the prognosis was not great, but she just looked so good! When I asked her how she was doing one Sunday, she just said, "Keep praying for me." And then she was off to take care of some church business. No excuses, no complaints.
Shortly after Sister Campbell had been diagnosed with cancer a second time, she attended our ward's fast and testimony meeting. She stood and started walking toward the pulpit. She tripped and fell. She got right back up and headed forward. She fell again. Up again, and forward she walked. And then she fell a third time. Undeterred, she walked to the pulpit and bore her remarkable testimony. I know my Savior lives.
At Sister Campbell's funeral, I learned, or was reminded, of things about her that surprised me a little bit. Not that they were hard to believe, but I just don't remember her telling me all that stuff, like about how she loved to dance and to go to the beach. I love those things, too. Come to think of it, I really relate to Sister Campbell. She loved my family, especially my mom. I want to be more like Maxine. I want to be a best friend to my mom. I want to give priceless gifts to my children and grandchildren. I want to be in the temple every week.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
A Mama's Prayer
Fast Sunday. First one of the new year, and a new decade.
Kneeling to pray. But what to ask?
When there's so much to want, but nothing seems urgent. I pray for my son.
Sitting in Relief Society (women's church auxilary, largest & oldest in the world)
Sitting in the front row, nodding in response to the announcements and instructions. Changes are under way. Pray for understanding and confirmation.
Suddenly my mind's eye opens just enough so that instead of my dear sister at the podium facing me, I see the back of someone's legs in a public place. Struck hard from behind, someone slams the ground. It's Jack!
I close my eyes. I'm in the front row of the Relief Society room, with at least fifty women who are participating in a high-energy discussion--reverent, but close quarters, with women of all ages paying close attention--and the ladies at the front I'm trying to pay attention to with earnestness, I have to shut out by closing my eyes.
Dear Heavenly Father, Please just bless Jack. Really, really bless him. More even than ever, please.
meetings end. family gathers. we travel home. we break our fast. we cook and eat.
E-mailing my son a nice long newsletter-ish weekly message that evening, I suddenly remember my vision. I write to Jack about it, and then press "send".
Bedtime prayers and teeth brushing. The tucking in and tickles.
Next morning, checking emails. A message from Jack! I read, smiling, about everything from what he can buy at the Russian grocery store (called Magnet), to how he has adapted so well to the cold weather, that anything above 10 degrees is hot, and he starts sweating.
It's pretty rough, I'm not going to lie. I almost had someone punch me in the back when I wasn't watching the other day, but he decided to throw a snowball instead. Thanks for praying for me Mom. I'm pretty sure that helped. I would've fallen to the ground for sure. Some other elders in the mission got hit by a gazell on the sidewalk. It's a small bus. Well the success we have is really great and I love the work. Please keep praying. I'm in solnechniy right now in saratov. Love you all goodbye!
Kneeling to pray. But what to ask?
When there's so much to want, but nothing seems urgent. I pray for my son.
Sitting in Relief Society (women's church auxilary, largest & oldest in the world)
Sitting in the front row, nodding in response to the announcements and instructions. Changes are under way. Pray for understanding and confirmation.
Suddenly my mind's eye opens just enough so that instead of my dear sister at the podium facing me, I see the back of someone's legs in a public place. Struck hard from behind, someone slams the ground. It's Jack!
I close my eyes. I'm in the front row of the Relief Society room, with at least fifty women who are participating in a high-energy discussion--reverent, but close quarters, with women of all ages paying close attention--and the ladies at the front I'm trying to pay attention to with earnestness, I have to shut out by closing my eyes.
Dear Heavenly Father, Please just bless Jack. Really, really bless him. More even than ever, please.
meetings end. family gathers. we travel home. we break our fast. we cook and eat.
E-mailing my son a nice long newsletter-ish weekly message that evening, I suddenly remember my vision. I write to Jack about it, and then press "send".
Bedtime prayers and teeth brushing. The tucking in and tickles.
Next morning, checking emails. A message from Jack! I read, smiling, about everything from what he can buy at the Russian grocery store (called Magnet), to how he has adapted so well to the cold weather, that anything above 10 degrees is hot, and he starts sweating.
It's pretty rough, I'm not going to lie. I almost had someone punch me in the back when I wasn't watching the other day, but he decided to throw a snowball instead. Thanks for praying for me Mom. I'm pretty sure that helped. I would've fallen to the ground for sure. Some other elders in the mission got hit by a gazell on the sidewalk. It's a small bus. Well the success we have is really great and I love the work. Please keep praying. I'm in solnechniy right now in saratov. Love you all goodbye!
Monday, December 21, 2009
Day 2 Post 2
Christmas is coming.
I'm thinking of baking tiny pumpkin pies.
I drank more water, took my supplements, and ate a bowl of spaghetti with pesto.
Later, I ate an apple, and some heavily buttered popcorn. The apple meant that I ate less popcorn than I otherwise would have.
For dinner, I had a homemade minestrone I guess you'd call it, with 2 small pieces of cheesy bread. Very satisfied.
Later, I ate a few of those gummy vitamins that are supposed to be for my kids. I love 'em. They have to be better for me than candy, right?
Did you ever notice how much exercise speeds up your digestion?
I'm thinking of baking tiny pumpkin pies.
I drank more water, took my supplements, and ate a bowl of spaghetti with pesto.
Later, I ate an apple, and some heavily buttered popcorn. The apple meant that I ate less popcorn than I otherwise would have.
For dinner, I had a homemade minestrone I guess you'd call it, with 2 small pieces of cheesy bread. Very satisfied.
Later, I ate a few of those gummy vitamins that are supposed to be for my kids. I love 'em. They have to be better for me than candy, right?
Did you ever notice how much exercise speeds up your digestion?
Day 2 Starts off with a BANG!
I ate one yummy fat-burning exercise nutrition bar, and drank a lot of water, and went for a walk around my neighborhood. That was a whopping eight-tenths of a mile. Then I came home, shed the coat, gloves, and shoes, and stepped on the trampoline. My age showed quickly. While my momentum was up, I wanted to jump high, but my neck and my knee revolted! So I bounced a while. My teenagers revolted. *sigh* So the walking was about 20 minutes, and the bouncing, 5 minutes. My yoga DVD won't work. Gonna have to get creative. Anyone got some salsa music?
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Day 1, Part 2
So, after the first half of the day, I didn't do quite as well on eating. But I am going to report it anyway.
1 serving brown rice with pesto
multivitamin
2 servings spaghetti w/ meaty red sauce
4 small pieces cheesy bread
part of the crusts from my daughter's pecan raisin bread
supplements
water
It's obvious I need to eat more vegetables.
1 serving brown rice with pesto
multivitamin
2 servings spaghetti w/ meaty red sauce
4 small pieces cheesy bread
part of the crusts from my daughter's pecan raisin bread
supplements
water
It's obvious I need to eat more vegetables.
Accountability Versus FUN!
A friend of mine bravely started a wellness blog to help his friends help him.
My sister has been doing something similar. Sponsorship!
Brave and smart.
I'm realizing that I need to do the same. But I don't need to re-invent the wheel. I'm giving them credit and following their lead!
So here goes:
I weigh at least 50 lb more than I want to weigh.
I wear at least 8 sizes bigger than I want to wear.
Wait, are all the numbers counted? Seems like the odd numbers are always skipped. Hmm.
Anyway. I'm going to ask you to check up on me from time to time.
You get to decide how often you check in.
I commit to posting daily.
I'll post both what I eat, and how (& how long) I exercise.
You get to choose whether you sponsor me, and if you do, what level, and what incentive.
I'm not asking for money, though. People in my sister's circle pledged incentives like getting a haircut or going shopping or going dancing with her when she's met a certain milestone.
If you feel so moved, feel free to pledge an incentive in the comments section.
So far today, I have eaten:
1 serving dry Life cereal
1 small apple
1 bowl spaghetti w/ meaty red sauce
1 jumbo banana nut muffin
2 bites of a banana
water and supplements
Since today is the Sabbath, I doubt I'll get a lot of exercise. I may go for a walk. I know with God's help, nothing is impossible. I know lots of things I should do, and I know what NOT to do. My plan is to focus on gratitude as I actively dance down to a size 8. I'm picturing that awesome youTube video of the piano staircase, with my goal being to be more and more active, having more and more fun. Have you seen it? Click on the title to this post.
My sister has been doing something similar. Sponsorship!
Brave and smart.
I'm realizing that I need to do the same. But I don't need to re-invent the wheel. I'm giving them credit and following their lead!
So here goes:
I weigh at least 50 lb more than I want to weigh.
I wear at least 8 sizes bigger than I want to wear.
Wait, are all the numbers counted? Seems like the odd numbers are always skipped. Hmm.
Anyway. I'm going to ask you to check up on me from time to time.
You get to decide how often you check in.
I commit to posting daily.
I'll post both what I eat, and how (& how long) I exercise.
You get to choose whether you sponsor me, and if you do, what level, and what incentive.
I'm not asking for money, though. People in my sister's circle pledged incentives like getting a haircut or going shopping or going dancing with her when she's met a certain milestone.
If you feel so moved, feel free to pledge an incentive in the comments section.
So far today, I have eaten:
1 serving dry Life cereal
1 small apple
1 bowl spaghetti w/ meaty red sauce
1 jumbo banana nut muffin
2 bites of a banana
water and supplements
Since today is the Sabbath, I doubt I'll get a lot of exercise. I may go for a walk. I know with God's help, nothing is impossible. I know lots of things I should do, and I know what NOT to do. My plan is to focus on gratitude as I actively dance down to a size 8. I'm picturing that awesome youTube video of the piano staircase, with my goal being to be more and more active, having more and more fun. Have you seen it? Click on the title to this post.
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